Give In To Me
by shakeitsalome
Summary: They both wanted to fight but little did they know their bout would soon be kicked to the next level. In a meeting of minds, body and brawn only one can take the lead. Co-written with xLou26. Two (or possibly three) shot for Jojo (xj0j0x)


Slowly she tiptoed across the room, back against the dusty walls that were shadowed in the dim light. The row of dumbbells' were exactly what she was looking for. She picked up the smallest one - enough weight to do some damage but light enough to swing effectively.

The fear of the metal clanging against something sent her heartbeat skyrocketing so she held it against her chest for now.

The man hadn't noticed her still, his focus completely on the punching bag he was slamming his fists into. Each punch, followed by a grunt, echoed in the room.

Why was he there, anyway? The front door had been locked. She had been promised that no one would be making use of the gym for a while and she would be able to work out in peace. She had just enough time to work up a good sweat, take a shower, and have the doors open when the scheduled client arrived. To come in and find him, whoever he was, was an unwelcome surprise.

Keeping her back to the wall, she kept he gaze on him as she approached. It never crossed her mind to call her father, though she would later and give him a piece of her mind.

The man swiped the back of his forearm across his face, shaking his head before hitting the bag again. Stopping in her tracks as the room became silent for a moment, she caught her breath. Suddenly she was nervous, regretting her decision to tackle this head on. The closer she got to him, the bigger she realised he was.

Maybe she should retreat. No, she decided firmly, tightening her grip on the dumbbell. Then, steeling herself, she relaxed and moved forward. She knew where to place a blow to render him unconscious at least long enough to get her father here and get him out. Raising her arms above her head, she waited for his head to duck as he slammed the bag again.

The breath rushed from her lungs when a large hand clamped down on her wrists. Within the blink of an eye she was pushed against the wall, his large frame towering over her. His hand still immobilized her wrists, his other arm stretched across her chest to keep her still.

"If you're going to sneak up on someone, sweetheart, you shouldn't let them hear or see you."

She wanted to coil back in horror, but she couldn't, he had her literally glued to the spot. Lips parted in shock, she wondered if her steps had been too loud, or maybe even her breathing. She felt him lean into her when she remained silent. It didn't hurt, but she knew he was making a show, even reminding her of his big size. Narrowing her eyes she held his gaze, "You got lucky."

"No, I think you did. Usually I knock someone out before I see who they are." His breath smelled sweet. There was a hint of cinnamon. Why she was analyzing his breath at the moment was beyond her but she was rather glad he didn't smell like an ashtray. Or worse.

The arm across he chest pressed tighter and she blinked, finding him glaring at her menacingly. "Why are you here, anyway? I was promised no one would be here."

He leant closer to her, lips inches from hers as he said, "I have a key."

He was so close, she could see the freckles spattered along his neck. Daring to look into his eyes again, she found rich green orbs staring back at her, menacing instead of inviting. he was angry about something, but what she had no clue. All she knew was that the punching bag had been getting the brunt of it.

Was she about to get the rest?

"Why would Christos give you a key?" she asked warily, straining against the hand at her wrists.

His fingers tightened to the point she feared bruising. She could feel her pulse beating against his large thumb. Feeling her grip on the dumbbell waver, she released it. He jerked her hands to the side and she growled in frustration when it clanged to the floor. The movement caused the hood of his gray sweatshirt to fall back.

"Now what are you going to do?" he challenged.

In one swift movement, she raised her foot and slammed the heel into his foot with as much force as she could muster up.

"Fuck!" The man yelled, releasing his grip on her hands. She dashed around him, almost tripping over the dumbbell lying next to her feet. She managed to get about a meter away, the office at the far side of the room looking like it was miles away. His arm clasped around her waist and swung her around. It all happened so fast. Her arms were held behind her back, held face first against the wall.

"What the hell is your problem?" Her back arched, trying to stop the pressure building up in her shoulders. Once again she tried to move but his strength was overwhelming.

She felt his breath against her neck before she heard his words. "You tried to hit me with a dumbbell."

"I dropped the dumbbell," she corrected, continuing to strain against his hold. "Trust me, if I'd wanted to hit you, I would have."

"And if you wanted to get away, you would have?" His breath was hot against her neck. With his arm around her waist and his vise-like grip on her hands at the small of her back, he rendered her immobile. She attempted swinging out with her left leg but he pushed her tighter against the wall, a mirthless chuckle passing his lips. "But you don't really want to get away do you?"

"Yes I do," she protested. Too indignant to give in to fear, she tried her best to break free. He was just trying to scare her. Everyone who patronized the gym knew not to mess with her. Not that he knew who she was. Or did he? With another growl she jerked her head back in an attempt to strike his nose. Instead, she looked straight up at the ceiling as her head landed on his chest.

"Good one," he taunted when her head fell forward again. "Perhaps if you were a little taller that would have worked."

She groaned in frustration but gasped in surprise as he pulled her away from the wall but held onto her tightly. She stumbled slightly, held upright only by the support he offered. "Wait until my father hears about this."

"Don't even think about jumping around on my feet again." He turned her around to face him, hand still clamped around her wrists like a vise. Voice low and gruff he mumbled, "He a cop?"

"No-"

"Then what the hell is he going to do?" He exuded arrogance, the smirk on his face only reiterating that.

"He owns the place, so I'm sure he'll have something to say."

The smirk died. His eyes widened at the news. She expected him to release her. If anything, his grip on her wrists tightened even more. Then, slowly, the smirk returned. "Right," he muttered. Jerking her closer to him, he grasped her throat. Gentle but firm, he forced her to look up at him. "Why don't you tell me the truth?"

"You really think I'd lie about that?"

"You were about to clock me with eight pounds of steel, sweetheart. There's no telling what you'd lie about."

"Don't call me that."

He snarled as he said, "Then what should I call you?"

Should she tell him? She chewed on her lip for second, then decided to go for it. "You can call me Jo."

Slowly he released her wrists, now probably bruised. "Well then Jo, did your father never teach you about self-defense?"

Why that arrogant ass. Now free from his hold, she threw a punch at him. He caught her right hand in his, then the same again with her left. Her frustration boiled over as he laughed at her again.

"You really are bad at this, aren't you?" He stepped to the side, still grasping her hands, and avoided the knee she rose to slam into his groin. "You'll have to move faster, Jo."

"Sonofabitch!" Glaring up at him, she realized too late that his leg had slipped behind hers. She gasped as he swept her feet from beneath her, landing hard on the floor. His grin was almost maniacal as he knelt over her. He stretched his arms over her head, thickly muscled thighs on either side of hers. For the first time she felt a tremor of fear. "What are you going to do?"

Light green eyes lingered on her lips before meeting her gaze. Suddenly he pushed off her, dragging her to her feet with him. "I'm going to show you what you should have done."

Jo wasn't sure if she should trust him. He motioned for her to precede him across the gym and she saw him gesture to the matted area in the far corner. She had barely made two steps when his arm clamped around her waist once again. And once again her face met the wall.

"First, never show your back to someone who could pose a threat."

Why was his voice so husky? His English accent was almost...arousing. The heat of his breath against her skin was, as well. Steeling herself, she wrenched free and turned to glare up at him. "But you don't pose a threat."

"Don't I?"

"You're right, you do look like a thug. Maybe you should have a shave."

"Maybe you shouldn't antagonise your attacker." He reached for her, but she was quicker this time and stepped back. She licked her lips, unable to take her eyes off him.

"I think you're the one doing the antagonizing." Backing away from him, she let her gaze drop to his chest. It was visible now, and she cursed her inability to pay attention to every detail. When had he unzipped his sweatshirt? Eyes glued to the exposed skin as he shrugged out of the garment, she licked her lips again.

"You wound me." He placed a hand over his heart while joining her on the mat. "Stand in the center, sweetheart. I'm sorry. Jo."

Doing as ordered, for it hadn't been a suggestion, she kept her eyes on him as he circled her. Why did she feel naked under his gaze? She grew tense when he remained silent for several long moments. Now lulled by the knowledge he wouldn't truly hurt her, she cried out when one long arm wrapped around her from behind. Before she could begin to struggle he clapped his other hand over her mouth.

"You turned away," he whispered next to her ear, and she didn't fight the shiver of anticipation that rippled through her. "I'm starting to think you want this."

Pulling on his hand, she took a big gulp of air as he finally let go. She didn't want to let him win. With brute force she jammed her elbow into his ribs, a grunt echoing through the room as he stumbled backwards.

"I didn't come here to learn self-defense." Jo spat, a mixture of feelings coming over her. She had expected to arrive and get her workout in before the day started. This wasn't an inconvenience she needed.

"That's probably a good thing, considering you suck at it," he sneered.

"Unless you want to torture me some more I'm going to get my workout in now," she announced. Raising her hands to fix her hair in a ponytail, she hoped he wouldn't notice they were trembling.

"Would you like me to help you with your workout, Jo?" Before she knew it, he was just inches away from her again. It was like she was a magnet and he was a big, hard chunk of steel.

"I want you to..." She drew in a deep breath, staring once again at the freckles on his skin. Able to feel the heat off his body she slowly brought her eyes up. And found him smirking. "I want you to leave me alone."

"No you don't."

"Asshole," she whispered, starting to back away despite her longing to move closer.

He moved with her, hands coming up to brace on either side of her head once her back met the wall. Again. "Look me in the eye and tell me to leave you alone and I will."

"Is this how you get your kicks?"

He leant forward, lowering himself to her height. Shaking his head, he smirked once again. "I could show you, but I'm not sure you can handle it."

Pushing her buttons seemed to be his forte. Holding his intimidating and fierce stare, she forced out each little word. "Try me."

"If you insist."

The words had barely left him before his lips were over hers. There was no tenderness. It was bruising, harsh, and had her overheated within seconds. She heard one hand slide along the wall then it cupped her cheek, palm searing her flesh as she surrendered. The memory of him pinning her to the floor flashed in her mind and she gave a soft moan when his teeth pulled at her bottom lip. She wrapped her hands around his wrists to keep from swaying, dipping her tongue into his mouth for a taste.

With a low growl he broke the kiss, tongue trailing over her bottom lip before he raised his head. Jo leaned, breathless, against the wall and stared up at him.

"What's your name?" she whispered.

He raised one corner of his mouth in a knowing smirk. "Stu."

"Stu." She tilted her head and trailed a hand from his wrist to his shoulder then down his bare torso. "Is that the best you've got?"


End file.
